Page 122 of An Imperfect Scoundrel
“More clothing, Mrs. Dubois? You’re behaving like a woman who doesn’t want to be bedded.”
“I have no intention of having relations with you.”
With a quick snap of her leg, she kicked out her foot, striking him in the face, and he released her leg with a howl, his hands flying to his nose.
Blood dripping through his fingers, he snarled. Lowering his hands, he lunged at her. His crimson-stained hand wrapping through her hair, he dragged her to her feet, then flung her at Cedric’s desk.
She folded in half, the hard edge of the desk crushing her abdomen, and exhaled a low ‘oof.’ Before she could react, Mr. Evans was behind her. His hand locked around her neck, he shoved her head down onto the desk, smashing her cheek against the wood.
Grinding himself against her butt, Mr. Evans leaned over, laying his body across hers, and pressed his lips to the shell of her ear, dripping blood on her skin.
“This is my ship. I make the rules.” His fingers slid around her waist, working between the desk and her pants, creating a small space so he could unfasten her trousers.
She bucked against him, trying to shove him off, but he was too heavy, and her arms, pinned beneath her, gave no assistance as she squirmed.
He groaned, his breath coming in short gasps.
“We could have been such great friends.” His sour breath rolled across her skin. “However, because you resisted me, I’m going to ensure this is the most painful experience you’ve ever had. You’re going to beg me for death.”
Tinged with frustration, his voice cracked as he wrestled with her pants, several curse words flowing from his mouth. Releasing her neck, he added his second hand to her pants, successfully unfastening them, and shoved them down her thighs.
“Don’t forget to scream,” he murmured and slammed her face against the desk again. Separating her legs with his knee, he pushed down his trousers and grasped himself, pressing his erection against her entrance.
A cannon blast rocked the deck above them.
Mr. Evans paused, less than an inch from violation, and lifted his gaze to the window.
“Two ships?”
Alana couldn’t move her head from its restrained position, but from the tension flowing through Mr. Evans’ body, she knew this wasn’t something he’d previously encountered.
She also knew this meant Cedric would be occupied with this new issue.
Apparently, Mr. Evans also realized this fact for he readjusted his grip on her neck, his fingers squeezing in anticipation.
A second cannon blast shook the ship.
“Shouldn’t you assist with that?” Alana said, grasping at the possibility that she could appeal to his logical side. “Aren’t they destroying your ship?”
He paused, considering her statement.
“Once I relieve Captain Shaw of his gold and violate and murder you, there’s truly no need for me to retain the ship. The Navy will destroy this vessel, leaving him with nothing.”
“Why do you seek revenge against him?” She pressed her hips into the desk, pulling away from Mr. Evans as much as she could in her indefensible position.
“Because Captain Taylor gave him this ship instead of bequeathing the vessel to me. It should have been mine, but one little mutinous attempt, and he relieved every man from duty.”
“As he should. Mutiny is an unforgivable offense. He should have murdered you.”
Fury vibrated through Mr. Evans. Releasing her neck, he slid his fingers into her hair and lifted her head from the desk, then slammed her face against the word, enunciating each syllable as he spoke.
“You. Belong. To. Me.”
Dazed, with the blackness of unconsciousness creeping into her vision, she felt her body go limp, pliant in Mr. Evans’ lustful arms.
“You may think you’re going to faint, may even wish for it, but you won’t.” He gripped her neck again, his breath hitching with anticipation. “I swear you will feel every stroke.”
A third cannon blast exploded.
